XXXVII: Barrados
Mr. Keelik,
I would like to speak to you about a potential business opportunity. I will be in Barrados tonight. Time is important.
Sincerely,
Mr. Silver
The Cat's Paw set down on its landing struts with a hydraulic hiss, coming to a rest shortly before the angular Blood Tip behind it. The pair of noncombat ships took up about half of the available floor area, leaving just enough room for the duo of CDF fighters that swooped in after them. The narrow, agile fighter craft landed just behind the shuttles, creating a box formation that left little available deck space.
The tight fit was a lucky break for those within the four craft; if any more room had been required, they would have had to spring for a larger docking bay, or settled for Threshold Station's public hanger, neither of which was appealing. The public hanger would have condemned any hope of privacy or security for their ships, and a larger private bay would have cost far more credits than they were willing to part with, even with the funds they had been provided with by Wolf O'Donnell.
While the bay they had purchased for the next few days was expensive enough, they got what they paid for. The slick steel walls of the docking bay were clean and ran without break up to the ceiling. A single double door was the only point of entry, guaranteeing that any trespassers into the bay would be seen immediately by whoever remained inside. The deck plating was sterilized to the point of reflection, glowing a little with the florescent light from the panels in the ceiling.
About the time the CDF fighters were powering down their engines, the doors to the Cat's Paw and the Blood Tip deployed, allowing the passengers within to disembark. A group of six gathered by the hanger door, awaiting the arrival of the pilots of the snubfighters as they ran through their cool down procedures, while another four loitered around the shuttles. Once the fighter pilots joined the group of six, they proceeded through the double doors, leaving the remaining four behind.
"Welcome to Threshold Station, your port of call for all that scenic Aquas has to offer. Please visit one of our many information kiosks..."
The automatic welcome message played from hidden speakers as the group exited their private docking bay, and entered the station proper. Their door was one of the last in a line of nondescript entrances to the station, stretching down the main concourse. Like the rest of those moving up and down the various concourses and hallways, they were dressed in preparation for sandy beaches and balmy weather, each of them carrying a duffel of some sort. The only exceptions were the two pilots of the snubfighters, still dressed in their respective flight suits.
"So you sure your guys will be okay in there?" Falco asked, gesturing back at the open door they had just come through and shifting the weight of the duffel strap over his shoulder. His clothes reflected a slightly militaristic approach to civilian tropical fashions. An olive drab button down, adorned with faux military patches, lay atop a pair of khaki shorts, both made of light, breathable materials.
"I am," Gamma Crendon replied, the last out of the docking bay. Like Aush a few steps ahead of him, the jackal was dressed in plain, uninteresting civilian clothes. The goal to blend in with the hundreds of other vacationers aboard Threshold station fell a little short for Wolf's marines though, as their distinctly disciplined posture and battle-hardened faces caused them to stick out more than they would've liked. "The Delta commanding them is a good marine; they won't let anyone touch your ships."
"And getting our luggage through security?"
"Aush has it covered," Crendon answered. Hearing this, Aush glanced behind him at the Gamma, nodding in acknowledgment and hefting his bag a little for emphasis. "We've got a contact in the security detail here, same guy who crashed the local bounty boards for a few days; he'll smuggle your pistols down." He gestured at Aush's duffle bag. "They won't be much, but it'll be better than nothing down on Barrados."
"Even Katt's little pea shooter?" the avian asked, loud enough so that the feline could hear him from the middle of their group. The concourse was noisy enough that nobody who wasn't listening specifically for it would catch on to what they were talking about. "Honestly, I know Barrados has a 'no firearms' policy, but we could probably put that thing in a carry on and nobody would care."
"Boys and their toys," Katt giggled, dropping back a few paces to get closer to Falco as they walked. Her outfit reflected her own take on what to wear to a summer resort, consisting of little more than a coverup string-tied at the naval, with a bikini top plainly visible underneath. A small pair of shorts completed the look, along with a flashy beach bag. "See hon, its funny because you think that a girl even cares about that sort of thing." The smile she flashed him would have devastated a lesser man with the amount of apparent pleasure she took in berating Falco. "Besides, I gave it to Miyu."
"Thanks, by the way," Miyu said as she joined them, adjusting the backpack she had slung on one bare shoulder. Her black top was loose and airy, and though more modest than Katt's, certainly fit the 'beach' theme. Her knee-length skirt was a deep blue, matching her eyes, and slit up her left thigh. A strap around her right thigh was hidden underneath it, currently empty, but perfect for concealing the small weapon they were talking about.
"Won't do you any good in a fight," Falco quipped.
"But see, that's my point," Katt retorted, still in front of the avian and glancing back at him. She shook her hair out. "We're lovers, not fighters."
"Can't I love a good fight?" Miyu asked with a grin.
They continued to bicker as they passed under a low hanging sign, beckoning those vacationers destined for the resort island of Barrados to continue through. A few steps ahead of them, the remaining three members of the group were discussing the particulars of why they had come to Barrados in the first place.
"So the Gamma's going to sit with us during the meeting as well?" Hartford asked. His white, short sleeved, collared shirt, combined with long, lightweight pants, gave him the air of a businessman on vacation. It was a fitting look for the older husky, still plenty young enough to pull it off.
Fox nodded, taking a moment to glance at a departures board as they passed it, making sure their shuttle to the surface was on time. Having just piloted one of the CDF fighters, he was clad in his normal flight vest and clothes, more than a little aware of the fact that he stuck out because of it. "He is; one of Wolf's conditions."
"And you'll be..."
"We'll be around," Fox said with a smirk. "The rest of us will be in or nearby the diner tomorrow morning."
"All of you though?" Hartford replied skeptically. "Don't get me wrong, I understand the need for security, but six seems like overkill for a private meeting."
"You're assuming that nobody knows about it," Fox said warningly. He shrugged. "But I didn't have much of a choice. Wolf wanted his marines, Falco's a great shot, Miyu's solid, and Rhena here wouldn't let anyone else take her CDF. Right?"
Rhena nodded resolutely from the other side of Hartford, dressed in her Cornerian flightsuit. The team had recently managed to convince her to get the green clothes repaired to a respectable level, fixing the frays and tears. The wolf had resisted at first, her utilitarian nature considering it a waste, but ultimately gave in.
"Slippy and Jason are working on the Arwings back on the Lone Wolf," Fox added, explaining why Star Fox's main snubfighters hadn't been taken on the mission. "They didn't seem all that excited about the idea of beaches, anyway."
"And Katt?" Hartford asked.
Fox laughed. "You try telling her that a contract will take place a beach and she isn't invited. If those eyes don't get you, those claws will."
The Cornerian husky laughed along with the mercenary as they approached the security checkpoint. Beyond it, down the wide hallway, they could make out a docking bay filled with a half dozen shuttles in various states of refueling and passenger loading. Last minute advertisements for various establishments and services on Barrados littered the corridor walls, shouting at the team in neon letters and promised deals. Little kiosks selling sunglasses and wide brimmed hats accompanied some of the signs.
Fox drank it all in as he fished a sheaf of tickets from his pocket, admitting to himself that he wasn't exactly disappointed as to where the meeting would take place. After all, it had been so long since he had taken the time to enjoy life planetside.
"Hey Slip, where does the Gamma oh-two connection go again?"
Slippy looked up at the source of the question from inside Falco's Arwing's open cockpit, across the Great Fox's hanger. There his eyes fell on Jason, peeking out from the fuselage of Miyu's Arwing, his jumpsuit covered with the usual dirt and grease that tended to accumulate whenever someone started poking around inside the ships.
"Theta oh-four," Slippy shouted in reply before turning back to his programming work.
A small datapad was hooked to the Arwing's console with a couple of leads, feeding new code into the fighter's computer as Slippy wrote it. Before he could get back into his rhythm though, he heard someone clearing their throat. Looking up, he saw Linka perched within arm's reach on the lip of the cockpit and the Arwing's nose, sitting cross legged and peering down at him. She was wearing a plain t-shirt and shorts, with a soldering bandolier strapped across her chest and an oily rag tucked into her pocket. She waved her hand a little, drawing attention to the three fingers she had up.
"Er, Theta oh-three," Slippy corrected himself, looking back at Jason for a moment. "S-sorry."
Jason didn't reappear from beneath the Arwing, but he stuck an arm out, flashing Slippy a thumbs up.
"Thanks," Slippy said quietly, glancing at Linka for a moment before going back to his work.
"Don't mention it," the coyote replied with a smile. She suddenly took on a mockingly concerned expression. "Seriously, don't; he'll think you're crazy."
Slippy couldn't help but laugh with her as his fingers typed furiously away at his datapad.
The toad and Jason had been busy modifying the Arwings all day, working to install capacitors like the one already in Fox's fighter. The fact that the weapons system he came up with had performed so well during its first live test made Slippy proud; he had been responsible for most of the team's upgrades and modifications over the years, but this was one of his most gratifying achievements. He had been happy to comply when Fox asked him to modify the other Arwings to give them the same charging capability as his own. He was also a little concerned when Fox mentioned the system-shorting issues the prototype had caused, but for the most part, Slippy was happy. Just another puzzle to solve.
Jason had volunteered to assist the toad, and was doing well for the most part. He was lagging a little behind Star Fox's genius mechanic – he was still working on the internal wiring while Slippy was already working on the combat system programming – but that was to be expected with an unfamiliar system. Slippy was grateful for the help regardless.
"So whadya think you'll do after this?" Linka asked, gripping her feet and idly rocking back and forth a little.
Slippy shrugged, not looking up from his datapad. "I don't know; p-probably get dinner."
Linka paused, listening to the tapping of various character keys being struck.
"No," she said quietly, "I mean, with Sophie."
Slippy stopped typing and looked up at her. Linka's face was barely hinting at sullen, but the toad spotted it nonetheless. He had gotten to the point where she no longer made him ill at ease whenever she decided to appear. He had even gotten to the point where he could talk with her as comfortably as he could with Fox or Bill, the knowledge that she wasn't actually real giving him a social confidence he otherwise lacked. Right now, though, he found himself unable to say anything. He sighed, his eyes losing focus for a moment before going back to his work.
"I need to ask her," he finally said, trying to put the non-existent young girl's expression out of his mind but failing. "I just want to find out what's wrong with me. That can't hurt anything, c-can it? Just asking?"
"But why?" she replied, cocking her head to the side. "Isn't it enough that I'm here?"
"But you're not here," Slippy said. "You're up in Wolf's m-medical ward, hooked up to all sorts of machines."
"I know..." she trailed off, glancing off into the distance. "I guess I just don't like the idea of hearing that I'm a figment of your imagination." Linka looked down at him again, her mouth curled into a slightly sour pout. "I don't like being called a figment."
"Well, if you're not a figment, and you're not a ghost, what are you?"
Linka opened her mouth to reply, but before she could speak, a new voice filled the hanger.
"Hey Jason!" Bill shouted from the hallway entrance to the docking bay. "We've gotta sort out some stuff in the armory; some of Wolf's guys just dropped off some surplus rifles."
"Roger roger," Jason replied, slipping out from beneath Miyu's Arwing. "Just give me five minutes to finish up the wiring here, eh boss?"
Bill laughed at his new title. "Sure thing."
"Hey Bill," Slippy said, putting his datapad down and standing up in the cockpit. "Where's Sophie?"
"Up in the med bay, I think," Bill answered. "She's making dinner in a little while if you're interested."
Slippy brightened up a little, nodding enthusiastically. "Thanks! I just wanted to ask her something real quick."
"I'll join you for the meal," Jason piped up, looking back and forth between Slippy and Bill. "I won't even charge for my presence."
"Whoa now," Bill laughed. "What if we've only got food for three?"
Slippy sat back down in cockpit seat as Bill and Jason engaged in mock argument, beginning the process of saving the work on his datapad. He tried to resist looking up at Linka, even as he felt her eyes staring him down from her perch above him. Finally, as he powered his computer down and disconnected it from its leads, he glanced up at her, frowning with guilt under her reproachful gaze.
"I'm sorry," he said, closing the datapad's screen and collecting his tools from the floor of the cockpit. "But I have to."
The flames of re-entry faded away, allowing those inside the passenger shuttle to finally glimpse the endless, sparkling ocean that was Aquas.
Out of their tiny viewports, the passengers could see the surface stretch off towards the blurred horizon, where the dark blue of the sea met the light blue of the sky. Islands dotted the expanse, some too small to hold any life more than a tree or two, others large enough to support a co-existant colony of sentient and non sentient beings. Small gray specs grew into fishing boats and pleasure yachts as the shuttle descended, sprinkled between the islands like flowers in a garden. And all the while, Lylat's blazing star reflected off of every metal surface, from the shuttle wings to the boats below, creating a visually warming sensation for the passengers flying to Barrados, while simultaneously forcing them to squint through the blinding light.
The resort island came into view as the shuttle suddenly banked around, circling down for a landing. The tiny starport, consisting of no more than a half-dozen berths, was the first landmark visible amongst the blur of green vegetation and sun-scorched brick. As the transport approached, those inside could make out other public transit shuttles docked in some of the berths, as well as a larger, military transport painted in Cornerian green.
The shuttle reached its circular bay and hovered above the open ceiling for a moment, gathering information from starport control. While it did, a flock of small, exotic birds flew past the viewports, as if welcoming the passengers to the tropical paradise. The airborne parade of reds and yellows meshed with the white of the buildings, the green of the trees, and the blue of the ocean to create a cascade of color.
Finally, the shuttle received clearance, and slowly began dropping towards the dirt floor of the docking bay below. Hanger techs scurried this way and that, clearing forgotten equipment out of the way of the transport's dangerous jets. The tropical island slowly disappeared from the viewports, replaced instead by the brown and white of the hanger walls.
The craft settled down amidst a whirlwind of dirt and dust, buffeting the techs and mechanics waiting in the wings. In another moment the intense downward thrust came to an abrupt stop, and the dust began to settle. The shuttle's cargo pod disengaged from beneath the belly of the ship with a heavy ka-chunk, lowering onto a wheeled slab rolled underneath by the starport workers. Even as the passenger cabin ramp deployed, disgorging the eager vacationers within, their luggage was wheeled around and waiting for them at the bottom.
One of the techs retrieving bags for the passengers was approached by a hard-faced jackal. After a brief exchange of words, the tech disappeared into the dumpster-sized cargo pod, reappearing a minute later with a duffel bag in hand. The tech passed the bag to the jackal with a smile, accepting a friendly handshake in return for his efforts. Nobody noticed the credit chip he then quickly tucked into his uniform pocket.
The jackal jogged to catch up with the rest of his party, exiting through the small tunnel to the rest of the island. They passed by signs and notices of local public policy and law, largely ignoring the friendly, prerecorded voices reminding them to report any suspicious activity to the starport authorities. Finally, they walked underneath a large welcome sign constructed from island woods and colored to match the wildlife, and emerged into the island paradise of Barrados.
For a moment, Fox just stood there, basking in the late afternoon sun cast down through the low rooftops and island trees around the tunnel exit. A cool breeze wafted up from the beach nearby, pushing through his orange fur in tiny lines. The calls of a tropical bird sounded from somewhere, followed by the distant sound of strings and local music. For a moment, Fox forgot all about the mission, Wolf, Bauker...everything. His sharp senses dulled down to a faint hum, save the gritty feel of the dirt beneath his boots and the quiet roar of the ocean in his ears.
Fox flashed a grin at his friends, an expression reflected in all of their faces without exception. This was paradise.
The open-top taxi ride to their lodgings was no less scenic. The soft growl of the vehicle's hybrid engine accompanied what for all intents and purposes was a tour to their bungalow on the far side of the island. The streets were lined with vendors and open walled shops selling all sorts of beach gear and handcrafted goods. Restaurant balconies and outdoor seating areas were full of vacationers, running the gambit from couples to packs of young adults; retirees, families, and every age in between. Green palmed trees lined the roads, growing alongside and occasionally into the worn, white scorched buildings.
Between every block, they could see the blue ocean down the side streets, beckoning them towards it. Falco's whistle made a group of women in swimwear and towels laugh out loud as the taxi passed, only causing the avian's grin to grow wider. The driver turned down another street, and the buildings began to thin out a little, giving way to wooden structures, one of which the vehicle slowed down and came to a stop in front of.
The group piled out of the taxi, retrieving their bags as they took in their surroundings. Their bungalow was built into a patch of trees with the front door opening inland towards the rest of the island. Other wooden structures dotted the street, strategically placed by landlords to be far enough away for privacy, while close enough for a sense of security. The omnipresent ocean breeze blew from the direction of the hut, carrying with it the scent of salt and sand.
Hartford approached the automaton standing on the porch by the front door, attesting that himself and the group were indeed the owners of the hut for the next two days. As the droid reported that nobody had trespassed while it had been waiting for the group to arrive, Fox fished a credit chip from his pocket, tossing it to Miyu and pointing at the taxi driver. The lynx looked at him strange for a moment before Fox put up his thumbs and forefingers, making a box around his face and mouthing the word 'bounty.'
"Ah," Miyu said with understanding. "Right."
The lynx approached the driver, who was facing away from her at the wheel of his vehicle. A smirk tugged at her lips as she saw that he was staring at Katt through the side mirror, standing on her toes to retrieve her bag from the luggage compartment.
Miyu cleared her throat, raising an eyebrow when the driver whipped his head around and saw her standing next to his door. She offered the credit chip like a policeman offering a ticket to someone who should know better. The driver cleared his own throat in embarrassment, taking the chip and muttering a word of thanks before engaging the vehicle's engine and driving off. With a sigh, the lynx figured that she had stumbled across what would probably become a common theme over the next day or two.
Hartford completed the check-in process with the droid, beckoning the group into the bungalow as the robot stomped off down the road.
The hut was sparse and constructed entirely of the thin, porous wood that was everywhere on the island. A small communal room, just large enough for a sofa on one side and a few chairs and a table on the other, took up half of the building, with a hallway stretching through the other half towards the back door. A half-dozen tiny bedrooms sprouted off from the hallway, three on each side, with curtains for doors. A few portable lamps sat on the table, but otherwise, the hut was utterly barren of decoration or luxury; perfect for a low-key, isolated little vacation. Perfect for what the mercenaries needed.
Katt squeezed through the group standing in the main room, taking in what little there was to take in about the bungalow. Out the screened back door, she could clearly see the sparkling ocean and inviting sands beyond; their own, semi-private beach, shared with the other bungalows along their gravel road.
Her scream put the island animals to shame.
"Oh my god!" she squealed, grabbing Miyu's hand and sprinting for the back door, a confused and slightly alarmed lynx in tow. "C'mon, we've only got a few hours of sun!"
Solar lingered on the horizon for another hour or two before finally succumbing and plunging the island of Barrados into a soft night. However, in its wake, Lylat's star left a glow of purples and reds and golds in the Aquas sky, matching the earthy glow of torches and the buzzing illumination of neon lights scattered about the island. Beaches gradually cleared out – save for those looking to lose themselves in the peacefulness of the dark – funneling their occupants into the clubs and nightlife of the central buildings on the island. And even as the glowing sky slowly settled to a uniform, blackish blue, the ever present ocean breeze filtered through every window, every tree, and everyone.
Leaning over the front porch railing of the team's bungalow, hidden from the starlight by the shadow of the overhang, Miyu could hear the distant sounds of club patrons shouting and screaming from further down the road. On their street though, the coast was clear, both literally and figuratively. The lynx had just gotten back from checking the beach side of the hut, getting an "all clear" from Rhena, the other person unlucky enough to pull the first shift of guard duty. While the two of them stood on watch, most of the rest of the team slept, having spent the day relaxing and preparing for the meeting to come the following morning.
The roar of the ocean waves crashing against the beach had already become white noise to Miyu, but every once in awhile the sound sneaked back into her consciousness. The rhythm was soothing, lulling her into a sense of comfort and safety that she realized was potentially dangerous.
It was just as she was pondering the implications of such a false sense of security that a distant conversation separated itself from the hollers of the club goers. It was quiet at first, barely discernible, but steadily grew until Miyu could make out the owners of the voices, and soon, individual words. Her initial instinct to seek cover dissolved, however, when the pair came into view walking down the road, and she easily recognized one of them by both voice and saunter.
"Oh?" Katt's playful voice intoned. "And how do you think you'll manage that, hon?"
"I'll find a way," a male voice replied, coming from the silhouette Miyu didn't recognize. A gruff laugh followed. "I always find a way."
Miyu watched the boisterous pair approach her porch, the silhouettes gradually coalescing into the familiar outline of Katt, and a hulking wolf who, based on his clothing, was one of the clubbers the lynx had been listening to all night. They both wobbled a little as they walked, using each other to stay upright, though Katt clearly looked to be the worse off of the pair. Even ten meters off, Miyu could smell the alcohol on the breeze, sweet and enticing at first, but very quickly becoming overwhelming and suffocating.
Separating the two in a few moments was a task Miyu wasn't excited about, given the wolf's substantial build. Why Katt was even out this late was another matter to deal with entirely; she and Falco had left the bungalow several hours ago together on a 'scouting' excursion. Nobody believed them, of course, but they were clearly both eager to sample the night life, and it was better to let them go with knowledge of their activities than to risk having them duck out in the middle of their watch rotation.
Miyu relaxed a little as she heard a faint rustle from the trees nearby. Rhena had apparently heard the pair approaching. The female wolf's hidden presence made the lynx feel better about what was to come.
"Evening you two," Miyu spoke up when they were a few meters away from the porch steps.
Katt squeaked and they both stopped in their tracks, as though they had just heard a disembodied voice. Miyu realized quickly that, from their point of view they just had, and stepped out of the overhang's shadow onto the porch's first step.
"Miyu!" Katt exclaimed a little louder than necessary as the lynx stepped into the starlight. She bounced towards her spotted friend and nearly lost her footing on the steps, stumbling into an embrace. Miyu's expression turned both amused and concerned as she found herself supporting the pink feline's weight, her nostrils assaulted by the stench of sweat and booze.
"Miyu!" Katt repeated, just as loud as she untangled herself and pointed back at the wolf. She seemed to realize her volume was set too high though, and quieted herself to a shouted whisper. "He plays center for the Aquas planetary team!"
"Oh yeah? Center?" Miyu said, raising an eyebrow. The amused half of her expression shone through in her tone of voice. She looked at the lupine at the bottom of the steps. "What sport would that be?"
The wolf's grin flashed in the low light as he shrugged. "Does it matter?"
Miyu laughed, rolling her eyes. She patted Katt on her bare shoulder, gently directing her towards the screen door. "Okay kitty, in you go. Sleep it off."
"Mm, okeedokee," the feline hummed, nearly tripping again as she stumbled along the porch. She found the door handle and looked back at her escort, waving. "Thanks for the walk, sweetie!"
The wolf was already halfway up the stairs when he stopped, blocked by Katt's words and Miyu's presence.
"Road's behind you, sweetie," Miyu intoned, staring down at the lupine.
He stared back with menace in his eyes, as though he had been denied a prize, and Miyu suddenly found herself very aware of the holdout pistol strapped to her thigh, under her beach skirt. She didn't want to use it of course, but as he took another step and she instinctively took one in retreat, her hesitation was quickly drying up. The air was suddenly heavy with something, poisoned by the blend of alcohol and cheap cologne.
The wolf only made it one more step though, before he was suddenly laying in a heap at the bottom of the stairs, a red and orange haired member of his species standing over him. Miyu breathed a mental sigh of relief as the man struggled to pick himself up, coughing and wheezing as he wondered aloud what had just happened. The lynx made her way down the stairs to stand beside Rhena, crossing her arms and trying to look as intimidating as she was sure the taller female wolf looked.
The would-be suitor finally managed to gain his feet, glaring at his attacker with something approaching anger but held back by a good amount of caution.
"The hell's your deal?" he shouted, wavering a bit. He looked past them at the bungalow door, taking a step forward and raising his voice. "Katt, your friends-"
The rasp of a knife leaving its sheath stopped him cold. The long blade flashed in the starlight, quickly hidden behind Rhena's arm as she stood still, acting as though she hadn't done anything. Almost immediately after, the quiet click of a small pistol priming sounded just as loudly in the wolf's ears. Miyu held the holdout weapon in her hands folded at the small of her back, remembering that firearms were illegal on the island. She was confident to the fact that the implication of the pistol was enough to deter him.
"Road's behind you," she repeated, resisting the urge to gesture with the gun.
Like a hunter ambushed by more than he bargained for, the wolf retreated a step, glancing rapidly back and forth at the girls in front of him. He muttered something under his breath before taking one last, longing look at the bungalow, and turning around. His gait was significantly steadier than before, the exchange having brought some sobriety to his addled mind.
The pair watched him disappear down the road, waiting until his silhouette dissolved into the darkness before glancing at each other. Miyu's eyes had adjusted to the low light enough to see the barely perceptible nod of approval from Rhena. Without word, the female wolf turned and melted back into the trees around the bungalow, resuming her watch on the opposite side of the structure.
Breathing out the tension of the situation, Miyu reactivated the safety of her weapon and slipped it back into the band around her thigh. She climbed the steps of the porch, resuming her previous position just as she heard another pair of footfalls making their way down the road.
For a split second she thought the wolf was coming back for more, but she recognized their rhythm, and the taller, thinner silhouette that appeared shortly thereafter. Their other lost 'scout' had returned.
Falco approached with a similarly uneven step, though his gait was more leisurely. The breeze carried with it a faint, whistled tune, along with scents similar to the wolf who had just left. He lifted an arm and waved at the bungalow when he was several meters out, though if he actually knew Miyu was there watching him or if he did it for another reason the lynx couldn't be sure. His features gradually resolved in the low light, revealing an avian who was significantly worse for the wear of the night.
"Good god," Miyu couldn't help but quip as he reached the bottom of the steps. "The hell happened to you?"
Falco stopped midstep, looking up at the shadow cast by the overhang in confusion. Rather than try to make out who was talking to him, he merely shrugged, lifting a hand to his bruised face. A small, dried rivulet of blood leaked from his ear, and a dark spot surrounded his eye.
"Got in a tussle," he told the darkness, continuing his ascent until he was literally face to face with the lynx at the top. "Oh, hey Miyu."
She laughed, noticing a good amount of the makeup he had borrowed from Katt to hide his identity had been wiped off by something. "And your mascara's running, too. Sounds like a good night."
"Oh, it was," Falco grinned, looking at the dried makeup on his hands. "Can't say her boyfriend felt the same way." He looked at her. "Thus, the tussle."
Miyu rolled her eyes, still smiling. "Well, grab some insta-caf and take a seat," she said, reaching for the screen door. "You're up for guard duty with Aush."
"Aush?" Falco asked, slurring the name. "But who'll I have to talk to?"
"Not my problem," Miyu said over her shoulder as the screen door shut behind her. "Aush has the back door. Caf's on the counter. Fox and Crendon'll take over in three hours."
Falco sighed, accepting his fate as he took a seat on the top step of the porch, leaning back on his hands and letting his head loll back. The darkness of the overhang above covered his vision, allowing memories of his night to slip into the forefront of his mind. A small smile began creeping over his lips as the night's events cycled by, and he eased himself gently onto his back, still staring into the black corners of the overhang. The ocean's rhythmic roar became his white noise, and the wood planks of the porch were surprisingly comfortable.
An hour later, Aush stood over the dozing avian, staring down at him. The marine toed Falco's chest, tapping it twice and waiting for a reaction. When none came, he lightly tapped Falco's head with his sandal, a motion met only by a loud snore of disapproval from the dozing mercenary.
A huff of amusement came from the silhouetted marine, followed shortly by the sound of him casually descending the porch steps. The rough scrapes of his footfalls on the graveled road gradually faded into the night as he left the bungalow, headed towards the hoots and hollers of the Barrados nightlife.
Her sigh sent shivers down his spine.
The small maintenance closet was just large enough for the cot that had been placed in there some time ago, next to the various racks of tools and supplies that gave the room its purpose. It was dark, lit only by an old, portable lamp that sat on the floor, casting a low, orange-tinted light up at the closet's occupants. A quick cleaning had taken place once it had been decided that the room would serve as the quarters for the Great Fox's resident engaged couple, and all of the more dangerous tools and materials had been removed, but it still smelled and felt like a tiny, often ignored room, used sparingly.
As Bill lay on his back, he realized that wouldn't have had it any other way.
The confined space made the room intimate; the flickering light made it inviting. And she made it a home.
Bill looked down at the canine laying half on top of him under the covers of the cot. He could feel her breath soft on his chest as their pulses began to slow, feel her comforting weight on his body as her muscles gently tensed and relaxed. He found himself unable to keep a hand from finding its way to her hair, gently stroking it as she sighed again, soft and carefree. She snuggled closer, her pointed ear pressed against his breastbone as she pushed into the crook of his arm, hearing every reassuring beat of his heart as it settled with hers. Soon their breathing fell into a relaxed rhythm, the precursor to a long, entirely peaceful sleep.
"Have I told you lately that I love you?" Bill said, breaking the majestic quietness of the room with a smile.
"Mm," Sophie hummed, refusing to open her eyes or budge in any way from the fiance-nest she had found for herself. "You know, you have. But I love hearing it."
"Well, I don't want to waste it then," he smirked. "Can only say it so many times a day, you know."
Sophie huffed a laugh, parting one eye to look at him with fake admonishment. "Oh yeah?"
"Yep," Bill replied, lifting the arm Sophie wasn't laying on behind his head. "And what would happen if I needed to use it for a really romantic moment or something?"
This time the chestnut canine looked at him with both eyes, picking her head off his chest. A beat of silence played out before they both started laughing softly, pausing for a quick kiss before Sophie put her head back down.
Their quiet presence filled the maintenance closet for another few minutes, their eyelids slowly growing heavier as the late hour of the night made itself known. The hum of the Great Fox's internal machinations created the perfect lullaby, and his fiance made the perfect blanket. Bill found himself creeping up to the edge of sleep when Sophie spoke up again.
"I was thinking about Slippy," she said with gentle concern.
Bill laughed once, keeping his tired eyes closed. "Really? Soap, if I'm that bad, you could just tell me. I'll try harder."
Sophie picked her head up again, smiling and rolling her eyes. "You know what I mean." She propped her chin on her palm, looking down at her near-dozing hound as she lay half atop him. "He asked me something interesting today."
"Mm," Bill intoned, nestling into the pillow and rubbing her bare back with his pinned arm. "Do tell."
"It was after you and Jason took his stuff to the armory," she began, a slight look of confusion on her features. "He came up to me in the med bay, looking kinda unsure of himself."
"Sounds about right so far," Bill quipped.
"He asked me how I was doing, and it seemed like we were having a good conversation when he just kind of blurted out something about 'trauma' and whether or not I knew anything about a 'fractured consciousness.' It was the strangest thing."
"A 'fractured consciousness'," the hound repeated distantly.
"Yeah. Asked whether it was possible if a part of your mind could start acting on its own. Start thinking without the rest of the mind knowing about it."
"Mm."
"He was really specific, too," Sophie continued. "Kept saying he had heard about cases where people would talk to themselves, believing they were talking to someone who didn't actually exist. You know, like a ghost only they could see or something. He kept looking behind me, too, like there was someone there."
She paused, gazing off into space.
"I dunno; maybe I'm just reading into things too much, but I think he might be having some mental problems." She shook her head, looking back at her lover. "What do you think?"
Bill didn't say anything. A few moments dragged on.
"Sweetie?"
A loud snore rumbled from his muzzle.
"Bill!" she said, slapping his chest.
"Hu-what?" he sputtered, lifting his head up for a moment before realizing where he was. His head hit the pillow again, humming an apology. "I'm sorry, babe; guess I dozed off there."
"Really, would it kill you to listen to me spill for a few minutes?" she said accusingly.
"I know, I know, I'm a terrible fiance," Bill replied sleepily, holding her tighter and giving her a kiss on the forehead. "Tell you what, tell me all about it over some caf tomorrow morning. I'm useless right now."
Sophie sighed, snuggling closer to him and letting her head fall again into the crook of his arm and shoulder. Though she wanted to say more, the canine suddenly felt the comforting warmth of his body below and the cot's covers above her. She failed to suppress a yawn, yielding herself to the pull of sweet, sweet slumber.
"Fine," she said just before nodding off. "But you're brewing it."
"The Black Star shines at midnight."
The man stared at Aush for a few moments, looking up from the newspaper he was inexplicably reading by the light of a nearby nightclub. He sat at a wicker table on a cafe's outdoor promenade, apparently oblivious to the fact that the establishment had closed many hours ago, and that he was surrounded by empty tables and chairs. The man was older than most out at that hour of the night, though a certain sharpness showed through his weary eyes and grizzled features.
"Then you best find shade," the man replied, gesturing over his shoulder as he returned to his paper. "They're expecting you."
Aush glanced in the direction the man gestured, noticing the alley that ran behind the neon lights and jostling line of patrons of the nightclub's facade. Without a word, he left the old man to his paper, and made his way towards the space between the closed cafe and the club, careful to look as nonchalant as possible. A bouncer stood at the alley entrance, but Aush kept his eyes forward and walked by without slowing down, and the heavily muscled guard never looked twice.
He reached the rusted metal door, stopping in front of it and rapping on it twice with his knuckles. For a few moments, nothing happened. Aush looked around, noticing the surprising proximity of the ocean down at the alley terminus, its characteristic roar entirely drowned out by the thumping bass and loud patrons of the club. The alley lacked the grit and grime of its modern city counterparts, replaced instead by parched brick and lightweight wood.
The door finally opened, revealing the utterly uninterested face of a hired guard. He beckoned Aush in, allowing the marine entry into the back rooms of the club.
The pounding bass jumped several notches as Aush followed his escort through the dark, narrow corridors of the club's rear. He managed to catch a few glimpses of the dance floor, quick images of a packed crowd from behind one way mirrors. At least one guard stood at each of the 'windows', surveying the jostling, writhing dance floor for one thing or another. Aush could only guess what they were doing as he followed the doorman further into the club's back rooms. The number of similarly dressed guards suddenly increased, standing at every hallway intersection and every doorway.
Finally, Aush's escort stopped in front of a heavy metal door, equipped with a closeable slit at eye level and flanked on both sides by men in suits. They had their hands folded in front of them, but Aush didn't find it hard to imagine they were packing easily reachable weapons somewhere in their fashionable island materials.
One of the suited men knocked on the door, the hollow thumps momentarily competing with the muffled club music.
The slit opened, and just as quickly closed. There was a heavy thunk as the locking mechanism disengaged, followed by the vault door swinging inward on smooth, noiseless hinges. Aush's original escort disappeared down the way they had come as the new doorman took over, his neutral stare drawing Aush into the secure room.
The marine stepped in to the well appointed office, pausing to take it in as the doorman performed a quick pat down for weapons. The handful of desks and chairs were made of heavy, off-world wood, polished to a fine sheen in the low light cast off by the lamps. A haze of smoke filled the room, combining with the low illumination to give it a slightly claustrophobic feel. Besides the doorman, there were few more guards with unamused expressions, watching the weapons check with casual disinterest. Around them, at most of the desks, clerks of some sort were bent over their work, some of them wrestling with papers and digital clipboards, others busy manipulating powders and pills with what looked like medical utensils.
The doorman pulled Aush's pistol and place it in his own jacket, nodding at one of the guards standing nearby.
"Sir," the guard called, turning towards the desk at the far end of the medium sized room. "Mr. Silver has arrived."
The chair behind the desk swiveled around, revealing a wolf studying a datapad, one hand holding the device and other supporting his chin. A cigar hung from his lips, trailing a thin wisp of smoke as he set the datapad down and removed it from his mouth.
He was youngish, at least compared to the office he was occupying; old enough to have clout and respect within his organization, but youthful enough to retain the sort of vitality necessary to run a field operation. A shock of blond hair dominated the top of his head, and a distinctive white mask of fur stretched between his eyes. His dress was roughly similar to that of the guards, though with a few personal flairs that made it clear that, as the highest ranking officer present, he got to call the shots.
"Mr. Silver," Richard Keelik said evenly, lifting an eyebrow at the pseudonym. "I received your message earlier today; I was beginning to think you wouldn't show up. Now, you mentioned something urgent?" Just as Aush began to reply, the wolf cut him off. "And I'll remind you that not many people get to see this room. If your info isn't worth the risk I took bringing you here, you might as well pull up a chair, because you won't leave."
Aush stared at Keelik for a moment, making sure the wolf was truly done speaking before daring to attempt to reply again. After he felt he could speak, he did so clearly and simply.
"Star Fox is here in Barrados."
A/N:
Hopefully y'all didn't forget about Mr. Keelik. If you did, no worries, check out the first bit of chapter 20 for a quick refresher. Jeez, I sound like a teacher. Alright, on to the reviews...
northernmegas: Ah! Ace Combat. I remember those games. Haven't played any of the recent ones, but three and four were excellent if I remember correctly. Peppy's recording was made just before the start of this story (thus the cheeky line "your past self should be arriving back from Riley around now..."). And the wedding took place somewhere unknown to the reader; the "Trust your instincts" line was supposed to be Fox remembering Peppy's signature phrase. Sorry if I messed up the layout of that. Finally, Fara. She may pop up down the road, she may not. I honestly haven't thought about it yet. This fic's got plenty of legs left though, even as we round the two-thirds marker. I guess we'll find out. Thanks for the review!
chaos Leader: I'll admit, I do get caught up with the actiony bits of the story, to the point of neglecting actual plot and character development. I just really, really like writing action :) And thank you for those kind words. Hopefully this chapter lived up to the standard of the last!
AndrossKenobi: Thanks for the review! I guess we'll see what happens with those two; authors have been known to changes their minds mid story...or not.
LilGstryker: Ah, I'm glad to hear it; Miyu's such a blank slate of a character in the canon that I wasn't sure if readers would like the angle I was going with. Hopefully she holds up in the chapters to come. Thanks for the review!
RedBay: Nah, never apologize for the rambling. Wouldn't have it any other way! But that story idea is an interesting one. I'm sure you would make a great author if you ever decided to open up a word doc and have a go at it. But I'm happy you enjoyed that particular scene. I actually had to go back and see what Peppy "sounded" like through his mannerisms, it had been so long since I wrote for him. But if emotion was conveyed properly, then I'll consider it a win :) Thanks for the review, buddy.
The Frustrated:Thank you; your analysis of Miyu is dead on for what I was going for. A loner who is discovering for the first time what it means to be in a "family." And I'm glad to hear the time scale worked out. I know I was getting fairly impatient with myself in getting her character development rolling a few times, so I'm glad it turned out okay. Thanks for the review!
Okay; that's me. As always, thank you for reading my story, and please, feel free to leave a review with any critiques or comments you might have.
-Redd